How Do We Deal with Haunting Memories?

I know it’s been quiet on this site lately. With school ending and the holidays beginning, I’ve propelled myself into the “spirit” by immersing myself in projects. That’s immersing, not burying!

I’ve crocheted boot cuffs till my giant ball of yarn dwindled to a tiny skeleton. I’ve made dish cloths, headbands and bows, cooked Reese’s peanut butter cupcakes, hot crackers and ginger-cinnamon chex mix.

In between all the crafting activity we also visited some family for the first time in their new house! We flicked our wrists at some bowling – which Adam won – and twisted our ankles at some ice skating. We huddled, shivering, around the gargantuan Christmas tree in the middle of town.

The holidays are here…ready or not!

I’ve written, but kept it all hidden away in my journal, mostly because I haven’t been ready to part with it yet. I’m as ready to share it now as I am for Christmas Day, but it’s the hope that my words will reach out a hand and help someone up that I share. I know there’s someone else who struggles with haunting memories around the holidays and I want to share the Source of freedom that I’ve found.

This time of year stirs up a whole lot of jumbled up emotions and memories for me. I am deeply nostalgic. Smells, songs, food, a certain color shirt, driving down a certain road can recall those memories in an instant. I remember someone I was talking to, what I was wearing, what I was thinking when I wore that shirt and instantly it’s as if I was there again. Sometimes this can make me smile like when I remember all the Christmases with my grandparents, but sometimes the memories also evoke shame.

It was this time of year when the struggle I share about in my book began. I’ve been awake at night recently remembering what it was like when I needed to talk to my husband…about something I really didn’t want to talk to him about. I remember driving down the road, this conversation burning in my gut, and praying God would give me words and the right opportunity to share them. I remember feeling guilty, condemned and ashamed of myself.

A couple weeks ago I was still awake at 2:00 in the morning remembering how a few years ago I was awake at the same hour because I had something on my mind that wouldn’t go away. I knew I needed to talk to Adam about it, but again I didn’t want to.

So I would wait as long as I could stand it, hoping the thoughts would dissipate into thin air. I remember how my heart would race, kicking adrenaline in my system and preventing any hope of immediate sleep. I never wanted to wake Adam up, so I would just lay there, with a conversation BURNING in my throat.

Then suddenly Adam would cough or turn over. It was like he knew I was struggling. I’d touch him and whisper if he was awake. And there, beneath a canopy of darkness, with tears streaming down my face I would unload the ugliness that plagued me. He would listen and hold me, pray for me and tell me he loved me and then hold me some more. Only then could I drift off to peaceful sleep.

A few years later, when Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled around again, I would fear going back to that place. The memory of those sleepless nights and the conversations I needed to have made my palms sweat. I would do anything to NOT have to clean out that trunk again.

This year I’m not afraid of going back there again, I just remember what it was like. And because the memory is so vivid, maybe there’s someone else who needs to hear my story.

So in honor of that, I’m discounting my book. Starting today and running through December 21st, you can download my book through Amazon for only $.99!! Or purchase a paper back copy through me for only $5. 


And for anyone willing to help me share this exciting news, you can enter to win this beautiful necklace from Chelsey Alyse. She does beautiful, custom metal work on all her jewelry and I will draw one winner to receive this necklace on December 22.



To enter the giveaway, simply do one of the following.

  1. If you’ve already read my book, leave a comment below on how the book impacted you. What did you take away from reading my story and why should others take time to read?
  2. Share either this post or my Amazon link with your friends via social media, email or text. Be sure and include (tag) me so I can enter your name in the drawing.
  3. Finally, buy the book! Send me an email or Facebook message letting me know you’ve purchased your copy.

*One entry per person (although you’re welcome to do all 3!)

*Must be 18 years old to participate

* Winner will be announced Thursday, December 22.

Thank you so much. I pray that through my story, you can find freedom from the memories that haunt you. May you have a Merry Christmas!








Hearts, Hiking and Healing

Before we go any further in this 31 day journey and before I share more about what home-schooling looks like for us now, I want to share with you how important my grandfather is to me so that you can gain a better perspective of why this time was so hard for me.

To do that, I want to take you to my favorite chapter (chapter 6) of my book that I released in May of this year.  The chapter title is called Keys, Tea and Herons, and here is a glimpse of the relationship I had with my grandfather and also a beautiful example of how God prepared me for this difficult time.

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When Thoughts Feel Like a Loaded Gun

I dream a lot. Sometimes they are crazy, off the wall dreams, and sometimes they are so real I wake up thinking I was there. God often speaks to me in my dreams, confirming or guiding an issue I’m wrestling with. He speaks to me through pictures, images that He takes to a deeper level when I really put my ear to the ground and listen.

One night I had this dream that my cousin’s wedding was taking place at my grandparent’s house out in a field. Now, at the time of this dream, my grandparents actually did live just across a field from me.

The surroundings were familiar and everyone was at the house getting ready for the big moment. Suddenly, I realized I forgot something. Something important. Something we needed now. So I walked back to my house to get it.

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What Are You Storing in the Corner of Your Mind?

What would it look like if we lived life in a round room? A round room has no corners. No corners means there’s no place to hide. Everything must be brought out to the center of the room and dealt with. When you know what you’re dealing with, it’s much easier to fix, before it grows too big.

But it’s easier to hide things in the corner, isn’t it? It’s easier to cover up cracks in the floor with a rug, and line the attic with boxed up items we don’t want to sift through right now.

But what happens when we stuff, cover up and put off dealing with issues until later?

Hidden away in the dark corner of our mind is where Satan holds us captive to the things we’ve covered up or not dealt with. He condemns us for each one and whispers that we can never be forgiven for them, for they are too awful.

It’s like what Scar said to Simba on The Lion KingAnd what would your mother think if she knew your little secret? No, run away Simba! Run away and never return.

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No More Secrets Interview

I am beyond excited to announce that No More Secrets is now available in paperback! Yes, right HERE on Amazon you can purchase yours!

In honor of that I’m including some more information about the book, an interview with one of my blogging friends.

Last year I decided to join a blogging course where I met Leanne , a fellow clumsy blogger who, like me wanted to improve her skills. As we posted our blog posts on the Facebook group, I immediately connected to her style of writing and the topics she wrote on.

We have commented back and forth on each other’s blogs and so I asked her if she would read my book and offer feedback. She blew me away with her knowledge and heart to help me share this story. So, I’m honored to share with you her interview with me about this book. Here we go…

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When Satan Splashes in the Puddles of Our Past {No More Secrets Release}

My husband and I have this great relationship. He says profound, small sound bites that pack a punch and I write them down and later turn them into a blog post. The other day, he said something at the office he knew I would have taken notes on. When he got home he relayed it to me before he forgot. Here’s what he said –

“Satan wants to play in the puddles of our past and then blame us when we get wet.”

-Satan wants to play in the puddlesof our past and then blame us when we get wet.-

Isn’t that the truth?!

It’s like he runs beside us and spies a perfect puddle just ahead that would smear mud all over our face. He poises for the jump and does a cannon ball right in the middle of the puddle. Water and mud splash all over our face, and we remember the time, way back when, when that happened. That horrible, awful event that rocked us to the core. And just like that we’re back there.

We remember what it smelled like, what flavor ice cream we used to eat, the song that played on the radio, the feel of the leather seats in the car we drove. Just like that Satan splashes in the puddles of our past and we think we’re that person again.

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No More Secrets Preview

As I flung open the door, my childhood best friend stood before me, handcuffed to a chair. The man who had captured her shouted for me to leave, or else. I left. Immediately, I entered a large, open parking lot. A stranger standing beside the only truck around flagged me down. Cautiously, I approached. He explained there were more in similar troubles. “People everywhere are being taken captive under heavy guard,” he said. I spent the remainder of the night barging into churches, grocery stores, shopping malls, and camping trailers locating these captives, but I had no way to set them free.

Finally, I woke up.

The smell of sweat had stained my night clothes, but I was thankful it was just a dream. I tried to forget about it and get on with my morning. I hadn’t even finished breakfast before I realized: that first captive may have looked like my best friend, but it was really me.

God was about to knock on the door of my heart with a trash can, a broom, and a mop, ready to come in and do some major cleaning. What happened over the next twelve months changed me forever. The days ran together. The nights were long. Sometimes I couldn’t eat. It may look neat and tidy written on paper, all properly spaced and edited beneath a chapter title, but believe me—in real time, it was messy.

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